More Dreams

Had the dream again the other night. Except this time I wasn't strong and ready to give birth.

I was busy helping a friend work toward getting a new job, moving toward a place where she would be able to get what she wanted in her life. Coaching, supporting, guiding toward a new and necessary place. So that we could find our way on to writing a new, exciting, happier chapter in our relationship.

But the pregnant part was, well, more like my real life experience was with Twig. Not so strong, not so womanly, not so sure about this whole being a mommy thing. The labor wasn't entirely right and my support system, was irrelevant. My bow-tie wearing OB wasn't around. I was alone in a dark and lonely place. Unsure of what I was undertaking and completely on my own to do it.

It was downright Scary. Just like real life can be.

And that's pretty much a metaphor for my life right now. Wood wants a new gig. I want another baby. He's willing to talk about it. I'm scared of being alone in my desire and if he's also interested, incapable of getting what I want because of my health, psychological state, age, or any other intangible and unpredictable reason. I ain't no spring chicken any more. I have considered that "middle age" number looming large in a few months could be spurring this on a little bit.

But the truth is that it's not a logical desire. It's biological. Mostly. I've been watching way too much Learning Channel TV, I guess. These people and other middle-america folk like 'em make me a little uncomfortable. On the one hand they've helped me remember that I've always wanted a large family! (four boys was what I always told my mom) On the other, that I believe that we, the left-leaning-tree-hugging-birkenstock-wearing-critical thinking-granola-ites that we are should have more kids! YES, really, we should. Frankly, I think it's rather irresponsible not to have more than one kid. Or worse yet, only a cat or a dog. Especially when they and many of their friends are having small villages all by their little lonesomes. They're growing an army of conservative voters.

Our friends' pets, treated better than some children of this world (nevertheless love 'em to death), can't vote!

You heard me correctly. My desire to have another little rug-rat that will simply complicate my life in oh-so-many ways I can't begin to fathom, is not only physical. It's Political.

But that's all of the words I have on the subject for right now. It's not too well argued. I apologize for that.